Old Habits/New Charge Sheets

I just wanted to get from ‘A to B’
… but, you know how it is, mate…
Hood-up before leaving premises
via the side-entrance…
three Council Estate Sections
(they’re starting to ‘Ungroup’ us)
and that dodgy Gang Subway
… where the Initiates
ching the fuck out of strangers
to earn ‘doorsteps’ into the Firm.
Then… as soon as I Main Drag it
… someone’s cousin? or uncle?
or something insane, who’s related
to a geezer who got group-bashed
a couple of Seasons past…
recognized me as being there,
not involved, but in the vicinity.
He’s not ‘asking’ he’s ‘telling’
… wrong day and time, innit…
I’m off-mood, only half-cut, yeah,
and the bomb I swallowed earlier
kicked-the-fuck-in 5 minutes ago.
We dented the side of a black cab
in the ensuing pavement scuffle
… unconsciously terrorizing
eighteen (so far) nosy witnesses
… they’ll love that in Court…
and the destruction of a litter bin.
The Desk Sargent’s hy-ster-ical
whilst bagging my Property…
coz I’m proper speeding by now,
nattering to meself like a nutter
about how I was only on my way
to sort out a fine at the Magistrates
which I’ve been s-t-a-g-g-e-r-i-n-g.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.